


Freude und Schmerz

by KuroRiya



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BDSM, Bondage and Discipline, Cock Bondage, Human Names, M/M, Rope Bondage, torturesex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-14
Updated: 2013-07-14
Packaged: 2017-12-20 05:08:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,056
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/883294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KuroRiya/pseuds/KuroRiya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Definitely not for the faint of heart... Rather hardcore GerIta Torturesex inside... So if that isn't your thing, I would suggest you don't even click on it. If it is your thing... Well, there is plenty of that inside! BDSM, whips, wax, electrocution, and, dare I say it, hot irons!</p>
<p>This was a birthday request from a friend of mine.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Freude und Schmerz

I'm not oblivious to the fact that most people think I'm stupid. And, maybe I am, but not in the way people think. But, you know, if people think you're stupid and helpless, they're less likely to have it out for you. After all, you're helpless and stupid, what could you possibly do to them? Anyway, this train of thought had a purpose. I just wanted to clear up that little misconception, seeing as it helps explain my next topic.  
Ludwig isn't satisfied. I mean, sure, he orgasms every night, but it's so obvious that he wants something else. Something more exciting than what I'm giving. He never has, and I doubt ever will admit to it, but, as I said, I'm not stupid. Especially not in matters of love. I mean, if whoreish Frenchmen aren't your thing, the next person you would go to for anything dealing with “amore” would be an Italian. I can tell, when he grabs onto my hips just a little too hard, or has to pull his mouth away from my shoulder to prevent himself from biting me, had to grasp the sheets so he wouldn't strike me.   
And I feel bad. Insubstantial. If I can't even handle something as simple as a spank or two, then how can I claim that I deserve him? It's not like I haven't been spanked before, after all. I got into quite a bit of trouble while living with Roderich, and he didn't limit his punishments to just stepping on me. But that's the thing. I've always associated it with punishment, and I don't understand how anyone could get pleasure from that.   
However, that didn't mean that I wasn't willing to... Try? I mean, sure, I was scared out of my wits, but didn't I owe it to Ludwig to trust him? He wouldn't do anything that I wasn't okay with, and he would stop if I asked. That's just how he is. He respects boundaries, and puts up with repercussions should he accidentally overstep them.   
So, surely I could do this, for him. At least, that's what I've been telling myself for the past four and a half hours, as I try not to cry while watching his “porn” collection. I don't even know if this can be considered porn... More like torture. I found it really hard to believe that these women, bound to the point of turning blue, gagged, and beaten were getting any pleasure out of their experiences.   
I wondered what was taking Ludwig so long. Any other Friday night, and he would have returned at seven o'clock. Glancing at the clock, my anxiety was reintroduced, the hands reading nine forty six. That was unusually late for the uptight German. His dinner, which I had prepared, was still sitting, now room temperature, upon the spotless green tablecloth. The fire that I had lit to warm the house was dwindling now. I restocked it, feeding it some fresh logs from the small pile.   
A particularly loud groan from the girl on the screen brought my attention back to the television, and I watched her butt slowly turn red from the relentless whipping she was now getting. I winced, my resolve faltering at the sight of her shaking body, the tears slipping out from under the leather blindfold. I would have to stop after this one. The few that I had managed so far, which, believe it or not was a considerable pile, were twisting knots into my stomach.   
But, be it fortunate or unfortunate for me, my watching experience was cut short. I heard the tell-tale tires against the gravel of the over-long driveway leading up to Ludwig's house. Though the driveway, which was longer than any I had seen before, was distasteful in my opinion (it always makes me feel cut off from the rest of the human populace.) it had been coming in handy recently. I could always hear him driving up, and had time to hide the evidence of my nightly routine. Yes, I had been watching these things steadily for about two weeks. I myself am not entirely sure why, but it seems... Necessary. I guess it makes me feel like I'm prepared for anything... Though the nervous nausea threatening at the back of my throat might beg to differ.   
I quickly shoved the dvd back into its case, throwing that into a box that was then heaved into the closet where I had found it, along with many other... Questionable things. I ran back to the living room, pushing the power button on the tv, then making my way into the kitchen and sitting in a chair. I slumped over, resting my head on my arms, making it look like I had been waiting there for him the entire time. My breathing finally regulated just as he opened the door, and I heard the ever-familiar dropping of his keys into the little dish by the door.   
“Feliciano? Are you home?” He called, the thud of his boots hitting the floor as he removed them echoing through the quiet house.   
“Ve~! In the kitchen!” I called back, waiting for him to enter the room. He did so quickly, coming around the corner and giving me a stern look.   
“Were you sleeping in here?” He demanded. I smiled for him, knowing he couldn't resist it.   
“A little. You were late, and I didn't get to have a siesta today.” I pointed out, and his angry face gave way to one of discomfort and apology.   
“Ja, sorry. Bruder asked me to go to a bar with him. He confiscated my phone, for 'Encouragement'.” He explained, sitting down in front of his cold meal. I gave him another smile and got up, taking his plate to the microwave.   
“It's alright! I got to sleep a little while I waited!” I reassured, pushing the buttons, watching the plate rotate in place.   
“I've told you, countless times, not to sleep in the kitchen.” He reminded me. I chuckled, not taking the scolding seriously. Even if he was really angry with me, it was hard to accept a rebuke for a crime you didn't commit.   
“Ve, sorry. I'll remember next time!” I promised, pulling the now reheated food from the microwave and setting it in front of him. He picked up the preset fork and began eating. I walked over to the refrigerator, opening the door and pulling out a beer, which I then transferred into a beer stein. I had never understood why he insisted on drinking it this way, as I'm sure it can't taste any different than if he would drink it out of the bottle, but I had grown accustom to accommodating this habit of his. I set this down to the top right of his plate, where he usually kept drinks; easily accessible, but out of the way. He gave me a nod of thanks, and I sat back down in my chair.   
We were silent for a time, him focused on his food and me focused on what to do next. I was realising that now would, truly, be as good a time to bring it up as ever. He had gone to a bar, which meant he had more beer than what I had given him for dinner, and, though his tolerance is, not surprising, very high, he is still more amiable after a few drinks. This said, it would be easier to convince him that I was willing to give it a try. However, he wasn't the one I was worried about convincing. Perhaps a glass of wine would have me singing a different tune?  
I walked over to my little wine rack, taking my time in picking out a promising looking white vintage. I brought it back to the table, taking a wine glass with me. I poured until it was about halfway full, then set the bottle aside. My first drink was languid, allowing my mouth to adjust to the fruity flow of alcohol, but my drinks became much deeper as the drink warmed my tummy, my toes, my cheeks. I made quick work of the first glass, and poured myself another.   
“You don't drink very often. What's the occasion?” Ludwig asked conversationally, bringing his own poison to his lips.  
“Just seemed like a good night for a drink, Ve~!” I replied, smiling cheerfully. He stared at me for a moment before returning to his food.   
“I suppose so. Thank you for dinner, by the way.” He added, finishing the plate and taking it over to the sink. I remained in my seat, sipping at the wine for a bit longer, making it through two glasses, and then one big swig from the bottle. I recorked it, putting it into the refrigerator with the resolve to finish it off soon, and brought my empty glass and his stein to the sink. I dropped them into the soapy water he had drawn, listening to the high pitched clink as they hit the bottom of the sink.  
“Feliciano, that's glass! You can't just toss it into the sink! It could have bro...” I silenced him by wrapping my arms around his middle, holding him from behind, nuzzling my face into his back. “What are you...”  
“Ludwig, I...” I started, the important words not coming out. He paused in his dishwashing, waiting for me to continue. “I... Um...”  
“Feliciano, spit it out.” He commanded.   
“Um... Well, I-ah... I've been thinking...” I stumbled, trying to figure out how to phrase this. Perhaps it would have been a good idea to plan this out first... “Um... You... You like things li-like chains, and w-whips, and I... I was thinking, maybe we... Maybe we could try it?” I finally got out, burying my face as deep into his back as I could. I could feel his breath hitch, hear the plate fall back into the soapy water, hitting the wine glass on its way down. He was silent for a time, just breathing, slowly, as if trying to convince himself that nothing out of the ordinary had just happened. When that fell through, he turned, taking my arms away from his middle, facing me at last. His face held surprise, apprehension, excitement, and hesitation, all at once.   
“Feli... Do you... Do you understand what it is you're suggesting?” He asked me, hands still clasped around mine. I nodded, not bothering with a smile this time. His eyes focused on mine, so intense that I couldn't look away. Such kind, warm blue eyes, like a crystalline pool of water, beckoning me to him.   
“I know... I... I want to try it, with you.” I assured, looking away at last, my gaze landing on the “forbidden” closet. He followed my gaze, calculating his feeling towards this subject, then let out a large sigh.   
“I... I don't... I don't want you to do this just because you think I want you to. I'm perfectly content with our relationship as it is.” He pushed, turning his gaze back to me yet again. I returned the eye contact, easily detecting the lie.  
“No, you aren't. And I wouldn't suggest it if I didn't want to, would I?” I added, trying to lighten the falling mood. He looked from me, back to the closet, and back to me yet again. I could see the conflict in his eyes, could practically feel the hesitant tightening in his chest. Finally, after much mental debating, he pulled me into him for a hug, holding me there.  
“...You're sure?” He asked.   
“Ve~!” I replied, looking up to give him a reassuring smile.   
“...Alright. Go into the bedroom. I'll be in in a moment.” He commanded, and I did as I was told, walking into our room. I slipped out of my clothes, dropping them into the hamper before sitting myself on the bed. I waited for a few minutes before the door opened, Ludwig appearing, a few things in his hands. I eyed the leather, my stomach churning a bit at the sight, but I bid myself to calm down.   
“You're absolutely sure?” He asked, one more time. I quickly nodded, an encouraging smile on my face, though I doubted he was the one who needed the encouragement. He gave a brief nod, then dropped his load onto the bed behind me, then picked one out. I identified it as a blindfold, and my thought was affirmed as he slid it over my eyes and buckled it behind my head. It was up to my other senses now. I felt him pull my arms behind my back, and felt a smooth rope wrap around my wrists, tying them together. Then they were slowly wrapped around the length of my arms, large spaces left in between, and, finally, brought around my chest (starting right above my navel) and wrapped up to my neck, where they were knotted carefully so that they couldn't strangle me.   
“Are you okay?” He asked, close enough to my ear that I could feel the hot breath that came with his words. I shuddered at the heightened sensation, nodding. It was quiet for a moment, and I felt eyes on me, forcing another tremble to wrack through me. Suddenly, I felt arms around me, lifting me up. He carried me out of the room and, judging the distance, into what was probably the living room. He set me down, and my naked bottom came to a rest upon cool, hard wood. I had been right, it was the living room. I waited, and heard rustling, meaning he had returned to the closet. His footsteps were quick as he returned, and I held my breath in anticipation for whatever would be coming next. After a few seconds he grabbed my erection, and I was forced to realise that I was, indeed, erect. This surprised me a bit, as all I had been feeling so far was apprehension.  
I felt the cold bite of metal, slipping all the way down to the scrotum, then tightening. A smaller ring wrapped around my testicles, and was also tightened. So I wasn't allowed to cum. I felt a soft kiss to my cheek, which, after gaining my attention, moved to my lips.   
“Feliciano, I need to talk to you before I do anything.” He whispered.  
“O-Okay?”   
“I... I don't want to do anything you don't want me to. So, I don't know if you've ever heard of it, but we need a...”  
“Safe word?” I finished. He paused, most likely surprised that I knew.  
“J-Ja.” He finally affirmed. I had actually thought of this part ahead of time.  
“How about pasta?” I asked, smiling a bit. I heard the sigh from him, but he kissed my collar bone regardless.  
“Alright. Anytime you want me to stop, understood?”  
“Si!” I confirmed. He got up, and I heard him walk a few feet away, presumably to the table. Sure enough, I heard something being picked up, then his returning foot steps. He took the rope binding me in one hand, pulling, a silent prompt for me to get up. I did so, and he pulled me over to the coffee table, bending me over it. I gasped as the cold, polished oak wood met my nipples, and jumped back a bit to alleviate the sensation. This, however, was apparently against the rules, as I felt a swift slap to my bottom. I gasped yet again, but laid my chest on the table again, waiting expectantly for what would come next.   
I was a bit confused. Though there had been an obvious sting to the blow I had just received, it wasn't really painful. In fact, I wouldn't mind getting another. Perhaps there really was something in this spanking business. Ludwig must have noticed my change in demeanor, as he was quick to jump on it.  
“Oh? You liked that?” He asked, a dark undertone to his question. I whined lowly, readjusting myself so that he could have easier access. And access it he did. I felt another sharp slap, and, after the initial shock, I groaned. This was a new sensation entirely, and it was absolutely delicious. Another spank, sending a wave of pleasure straight to my stomach, where it coiled up.   
“L-Ludwig...” I breathed, squeezing my knees together, trying to give some relief to my arousal that already felt like it was ready to explode. But he was having none of that, and another strike befell me, but this time much different from the last. I wasn't sure what had just happened, but I wasn't given time to think. He shoved my legs apart, pushing them against the legs of the coffee table. I felt another set of rope, and soon found my legs tied to the table, rendering me pretty much immobile.   
His eyes were on me again, watching, waiting for a slip up to exploit. My skin flushed under the gaze, my toes twitched, I whimpered. That was what he was waiting for. Another blow, like the one before it. I realised what it was he was using now; a small leather whip. It felt like it had more than one tail, but I couldn't possibly tell you how many. I moaned, earning another swat. We continued like this, a few more strikes with the whip, then he apparently got bored.  
He undid the knot on the ropes binding my legs, unwrapping it and pulling me away from the table. He then did the same to the ropes around my arms. As they were released, I brought them in front of me, moving my shoulders a bit to alleviate the stiffness that had set in while in my previous position. However, they weren't freed for very long. The ropes were swiftly replace by leather straps, binding my hands together, and then pulled over my head. They were attached to another strap, which was hooked somewhere, keeping my hands taught above me. Then there was more rope, and a pipe-like object, shoved under my knees and tied into place, rendering my legs splayed. I thought this would be all, but I was mistaken. I gasped as something was clamped onto my nipple, a wave of pain shooting through me. The same happened to the other, then I felt a gentle tugging at both that made me wince and realise that the two clamps were connected. He pulled the bar under my legs up, and attached the two clamps to it, likely by a small chain. He then released the bar.   
I yelped, the dropping of my legs having caused the bar to pull on the clamps. I bent my legs back up to my chest, which released the pull on my nipples, but displayed my privates quite shamefully. I wimpered again, shifting so I was laying on a different part of my back. I waited, trying to pick up any sound, scent, touch, anything that would give away what he was doing. I jumped a bit when I heard a quick snap, then a quiet hiss. A sulfury smell confirmed my guess of a match. I began to fret a bit. Was he going to burn me? If there was one thing I didn't want him to do, it would have to be burning. But I trusted him, and kept my mouth shut.   
A few seconds passed with nothing, and I knew that the match would have burned out by then. So he wasn't planning on burning me. But what other purpose could there be behind that match? Ludwig doesn't smoke... I flinched as I felt a sudden heat, near my chest, but there was no burning sensation. Confused, and oh so curious, I opened my mouth to ask him what was going on, but the question choked on its way out, converting into a scream. A drip of something very hot met the skin of my chest, making me spasm. This resulted in me pulling my legs forward, straining the clamps. I groaned, snapping my legs back up. The liquid had solidified on my chest, and I realised at last that it was wax. Another drip fell, this time hitting a nipple directly, and I yelped, but managed not to move my legs too much.   
“L-Ludwig... I... Ooh...” I moaned, not really sure what I was trying to say in the first place.   
“Ja?” He snapped, sounding impatient.   
“I-I... Um...” I stuttered, scared that not saying anything would earn me a punishment.   
“Quit stalling. Spit it out.” He commanded. I squeaked, and tried to make myself smaller. He huffed, sounding annoyed. I waited, anticipation overwhelming me. Finally, after what seemed like hours, another drip fell, hitting the other nipple.   
“Ah! Oooh...” I groaned, tears coming to my eyes. I wasn't allowed to contemplate where the next drip would be falling. He made a little trail, from one nipple to the other, then back again. This pattern continued, a zigzag, all the way down to my navel. He halted there, letting the wax pool. Then it stopped. I panted, not having noticed that my breathing had shifted in the first place. This anticipation, bringing my heart rate up, shocking my body... It was exciting. But it seemed to be over. Or so I thought.  
In one swift movement, he grabbed the bar attached to my legs, and loosened the straps holding my hands just enough that he could force me down, so that my upper back was laying flat on the floor as opposed to my lower. He pushed my legs up more, so that they were hovering over my head. Again, the stare. I could feel it picking apart each and every part of my body, seeing things that I doubt anyone had ever seen, even Ludwig himself. Sure, we had had sex, but never like this. Never had I felt so vulnerable. I fidgeted, hoping that he would stop staring, hoping that it was finally time for him to fill me, to fuck me senseless.   
I nearly screamed as hot wax fell on my arousal, spilling down over my testicles. The shock too much, my body so very unprepared, I jerked forward, pulling the clamps forward, pain shooting through me. I wanted to sob, but bit it back, repositioning myself. Another pause, and again I wondered if it was over. Needless to say, it was not. I felt the heat, searing at skin more sensitive than anywhere else on my body. I spasmed, the motion so strong that it ripped one of the clamps off, a sharp sting left behind in its wake. Ludwig would have none of this though. He forced the bar up, holding me there, and continued his dripping. I couldn't hold back the scream this time, and I vaguely heard it echo around the house, but I was much too focused on the burning sensation to care, let alone focus my attention on the dissonance.   
The beads of wax fell, steadily coating the ring of muscles, making me shudder each time. I whined lowly, still unsure of how I felt about the wax. It hurt, stung, and yet, there was a gentle ache of pleasure each time it fell. And suddenly, it ceased. I held my breath, expecting to be surprised yet again by a random drip, but it never came. I heard a dull thunk, and my assumption was that he had dropped the candle. I waited, wondering what could possibly be next. I waited, and waited, and waited. All of the wax had dried and hardened.   
Apparently this is what I was waiting for. The next sensation was his fingers, scraping gently at the wax on my chest. After getting a corner up, he pulled, peeling a large pool off of my skin. The cold air hit it, making me shiver, my slightly burnt skin oversensitive. He peeled the wax from my nipples, blowing on the exposed skin immediately after it was revealed, a small moan escaping my lips. He continued like this, peeling and blowing. When it was time to move to my entrance, he worked slowly, pulling at the wax languidly, the sensation practically excruciating. I wriggled, mentally willing him to be done with it. At last, it was finished, and, to my disbelief, he did not torture me with frigid air in my most sensitive of areas.   
He unhooked my legs from the bar, doing the same with my wrists, and allowed me to rest my body. His hands, only moments ago harsh and disciplinary were now gently stroking my tense muscles, easing me back into relaxation. He leaned over me, his chest pressing against mine, his lips barely brushing my ear as he spoke, lowly, softly, lovingly.   
“Are you alright, Feliciano?” He asked, his hand having moved down to rub small circles into my stomach, a comforting gesture. I paused, hesitated, thinking.  
“...Si. Fine.” I decided, trying to smile a bit to reassure him.   
“We can stop, if you want.” He offered, but I shook my head.  
“No, it isn't too bad.” I admitted. He was quiet for a moment, and I guessed that he was trying to detect a lie. But there was no lie to detect, and he realised this.   
“...Very well.” He said, tracing a few more circles, then his warmth left me. I heard the rustling of his clothes, again heard the footsteps, and waited all over again. I waited much longer this time, many strange sounds making their way to my ears, clangs of metal against metal, the zip of a stiff fabric, and I shuddered despite myself, the sounds of whatever he was preparing unsettling me. Then the footsteps returned. His fingers laced into the hair at the back of my scalp, lifting my head up a bit. The thumb of the other hand pulled at my bottom lip, prompting me to open my mouth. As soon as I did, something metal was shoved into my mouth, behind my front teeth, then tied behind the back of my head. My first guess was that it was a gag, but as I tried to press against it with my tongue, I found that it went through. So it was a ring. I tried to ask what the point of this was, but no intelligible words came out.   
Then I started to panic. How was I to say the safe word if I couldn't talk? I was about to try to undo the gag, but he took my hands and I felt something round pressed into one of them.   
“If you want me to stop, drop this.” He commanded. Well, I guess that makes sense. I nodded.  
I waited patiently, letting him strap my arms to a bar behind me, and put cuffs around my ankles. He picked me up, carrying me somewhere, then sitting me on my knees. My arms were once again raised above me, though not as far. I figured this was all, but I was wrong. (Seems I've been doing a lot of wrong guessing tonight.) I yelped as he lifted up my lower half, attaching my ankles to hooks, and a strap was pulled around my stomach, then he let me go. I found my self suspended, my body weight making it impossible to close my legs or let myself down. This feeling of helplessness was worse than before. I wriggled, fruitlessly trying to cover myself. I tried to speak again, having forgotten already that it was impossible, senseless babble spilling from my lips.   
His footsteps approached, and I felt a hand, gently caressing my back, moving down, lower, groping. I moaned appreciatively, wanting to beg him to do it again. But he released the cheek he had been squeezing, taking only one step to come around to my head. His hands were behind my head, and the pressure of the blindfold fell away. I blinked, momentarily blinded by the sudden rush of light. But the lights had been dimmed, so it didn't take long for my eyes to adjust. I looked up at him, barely able to raise my head enough to see his face.   
The eyes I had looked into earlier in the evening had all but disappeared. The warmth, the kindness, chased out by cruelty, the need for domination, yet I could still see the love behind them, so I did my best to relax. He wouldn't truly hurt me. His eyes reassured me, just as much as they unsettled me.   
We were still in the living room, me facing towards the coffee table, which was laden with various objects. I picked out the whip from earlier, as well as what was left of the candle. But I was having trouble recognizing most of the other things. He picked up a small device, a box with a wire coming from it. I squinted at it, trying to figure out what it could be. I noticed that, at the end of the wire, was a handle, which led to a metal tip. This still gave me no hints. I looked up to Ludwig, silently asking him to explain it to me. He brought it to me, holding the handle, showing me the metal tip. He then pressed a button on the box, and a wispy string of electricity. My eyes widened. Surely he wasn't planning on using that on me. I shook my head, vigorously, fear likely quite evident on my face.   
“I know you're scared, but at least try.” He whispered, close to my ear yet again. I closed my eyes, his loving tone overriding my fear. I owed it to him to at least try it. If it was as bad as I was thinking, he would stop. I took a deep breath, and nodded. He kissed me on the cheek as a reward, and went behind me. My chest tightened, my breathing heavier as I anticipated the shock that was coming. It seemed like hours, waiting, seemed like he was teasing me. Finally, without warning, my body spasmed, a sensation that could only be described as electric coursing through me. I screamed, my voice uninhibited by my lips thanks to the not-gag, then panted. But as fast as it had come, it was gone, replaced with a gentle caress from Ludwig. There was a faint stinging at my entrance, where he had touched the tip to my flesh. He waited for me to catch my breath, then shocked me yet again, eliciting another scream, and tears. Another massage, another zap, another scream, this one melting into a moan. He stopped, walking back around to face me. He looked at my face, unblinking. I looked down, ashamed of the pathetic state I'm sure my face was in. He knelt down and used fingers, hooked under my chin, to pull my face up to him. He kissed my cheeks, interrupting the trails that my tears had traced with his lips.   
“Do you want me to stop?” He asked, stroking my hair. I blinked, processing the question. Did I want him to stop? Being shocked wasn't pleasant... But it wasn't exactly horrible either. Still, not something one would really wish on themselves. I looked up at him, still unsure. A kiss to my nose. “Then I'll help you decide.” He said simply, standing back up and resuming his position behind me. Another shock had me thrashing. All of those before this shock had been quick, just barely tapping me with the device before pulling it away, but this was prolonged. I writhed, screamed, moaned, tried to beg him to stop. I had lost all coherent thought. I kept trying to speak, taking several seconds to remember the ball. As soon as I did, I released my hold on it. Before it had even hit the ground, he pulled away. I heard him drop the device, and my legs were lifted a bit before they were lowered gently to the ground. He made quick work of returning to my front side, pulling me to his chest. I panted, my heartbeat quick and erratic.   
“I'm sorry.” He murmured. “I went to far.” He admitted, tracing his fingers along my spine, the other hand stroking my hair, willing my body to calm down. I trembled a bit as the shock wore off, but eventually stilled in his arms. “Are you okay?”   
I nodded, nuzzling his chest. He pulled back, looking into my eyes. He undid the gag, pulling it from behind my teeth, pulling it out, then he let it fall with a clink. I opened and closed my mouth a few times, finally able to relax my jaw. He wiped at the drool that had escaped, and I sighed quietly. But before I could really relish in the relief, he pressed his lips to mine, his hands holding my head in place so he could kiss that much harder. I could practically feel my lips bruising at the sheer force, could taste his fear, fear of me rebuking him, leaving him, letting him fall into loneliness again. I kissed back, reassuring, giving much needed confirmation that I still loved him. His hands traveled down, one resting on the small of my back, the other groping lower, pulling me flush against him, bending me a bit in his need to be close. I moaned into his mouth, his tongue exploring familiar patterns. This continued until my world was going dark from lack of air, then he finally released me. We both gasped, panted, waiting for our lungs to catch up to us. He still looked desperate, as if he didn't believe my kiss. I wanted so much to assure him, to calm his fears. How did you say I love you in German? Perhaps I should have paid more attention when he tried to teach me...  
“I-Ich liebe duck.” I tried. That sounded right...   
His eyebrows furrowed, and his body froze.  
“W-What?” He asked, and I suddenly became unsure of myself.   
“U-Um... Ich lecke duck?” I tried again. His face became one of utter confusion.  
“Y-You lick duck?” He asked, sounding truly concerned.   
“Merda! Um... I forgot how to say it... But I love you!” I explained. His face became surprise for a moment, then melted to one of affection.  
“Ich liebe dich, Feliciano. Not duck.” He chided.   
“Oooh, okay! I'll remember next time!” I promised, trying to press my lips to his, but couldn't, my suspended arms restricting me. I pouted, but he gave me the kiss I had been looking for. I smiled as we broke apart, this kiss having been more chaste. He rested his forehead against mine for a while, and I was content to stay like that. At least, until a rather harsh throb from my lower half reminded me that I had yet to release.   
“U-um, Ludwig?”   
“Ja?”  
“W-Well... Um...” I looked down, hoping he would follow my line of sight. My poor arousal was still swelled painfully, dripping a bit with the effort not to release, not that it really had a choice, the ring still firmly in place.   
“Oh? Do you think we're done?” He asked, his voice suddenly icy. I looked up at him in surprise. His eyes were wintery yet again. I swallowed thickly, the feeling of vulnerability washing over me all over again. He reached up and undid the hook holding my arms up, letting them fall harshly. He picked me up and carried me back over to the coffee table, this time laying me across it after transferring all of the... Things he had piled onto it. One of them being a length of rope. He spread my legs, tying each to one leg of the table, then did the same with my wrists, looking at me with satisfaction. He then retrieved the blindfold from before, replacing it over my eyes. I heard his footsteps walking back towards the closet, rummage, then return. He lifted my head, and I felt something soft slip over my ears. Earmuffs? But why? The fire was keeping the living room at a comfortable temperature, my ears weren't cold.  
Perhaps I was thinking about this too practically. They did more than just keep ears warm... They blocked out most of the sound in the room. If he was quiet about it, he could move around undetected. My stomach churned a bit. Where was he now? What was he doing? I felt terribly exposed, horribly accessible, but I knew that no moves I made would help to cover me, so I tried my best to remain calm.   
I shuddered as I felt something cold, hard, sharp trace my hip. Was that a knife? Would he cut me? Had he cut me? He drew a line down my stomach. It was sharp, a point, I could feel it slicing the skin it touched, could feel the gentle sting. My heart sped up. He was cutting me! I never thought in he would cut me in a million years!  
“L-Ludwig...” I groaned. Another line, this on starting at my collarbone and following through all the way to my navel. “A-Ah! Please! Don't cut me, Ludwig, I-I...” He made a quick slice at my thigh. “No! Please!” My breathing quickened. This time it followed the curve of where my groin met my leg. I sobbed. Why wasn't he stopping? I had asked him to! Disregarding my wishes, he pressed the blade to a very sensitive area.   
“No! No! Please! Ludwig! Not th-AAAAH!” I screamed as he ran it from the tip of my arousal to the base. I cried pathetically, wondering how much blood I was loosing and how much I could lose before I would pass out, or, eventually, die. But before I could get too hysterical, he pulled the earmuffs away from one of my ears, leaning down, his breath hot where it landed.   
“If you want me to stop, you have to say the safeword.” He reminded me. Of course, I had completely forgotten that.   
“Pasta! Please! Please don't cut me anymore!” I begged.   
“Feliciano, I haven't cut you.” He informed me. I was utterly confused.  
“Y-Yes you did! I felt it!” I said, regaining my stubbornness. I'd be damned if he thought he could talk his way out of this one.  
“No, I haven't.” He reiterated, slipping the blindfold up a bit and putting a hand behind my neck, helping me raise up just enough to look down at the rest of my body. To my absolute confusion, there was not a mark to be seen, not even a pale white scratch.  
“B-But...” I started, cutting off when I realised I had nothing to say. I took a few shuddering breaths to calm my trembling body, frowning in shame at having trusted him so little. He replaced the blindfold and earmuffs, then his body heat disappeared. I waited, my determination rekindled by my failure at having faith. I expected something mildly painful, but, to my surprise, I felt a gentle prodding at my entrance. Something too hard, too cold to be Ludwig, so that meant a toy. It slipped in after some coaxing, and began vibrating. I moaned, this being the first direct stimulation I had gotten all night, and it was long enough that it was hitting my prostate. I let the feeling take over, desperate for the release I had been denied all night. But right as I thought I was reaching my peak, I realised that I wouldn't be able to come with this ring. I cried out in frustration, about to demand that Ludwig let me come for the love of god, but stopped as I felt his fingers on me, stroking gently, teasing me to the point of insanity.   
“Ludwiiiiig! Please!” I cried, biting my lip.   
“Please what? You have to tell me what you want.” He said, loud enough for me to hear through the earmuffs.   
“P-Please, let me cum! I need to, so bad! I can't... I can't...Anymore... I...” I begged pathetically. I heard him groan, his stroking becoming rougher before it stopped all together. He let go of my arousal, leaving me only with the maddening throb of the vibrator. I screamed, absolutely frustrated. He left me to tremble for several minutes. During this time, I heard a few sounds, all muffled. Thuds, clicks, metal clanks. I waited, wondering what else he could possibly have in store for me. Finally, he moved the earmuffs, revealing his whereabouts and my ears.   
“Feliciano, do you love me?” He asked lowly. I frowned, what a stupid question!  
“O-Of course I do!”  
“Do you belong to me?” He continued, not missing a beat.   
“H-Huh?”  
“Are you mine? Only mine?” He rephrased.   
“O-Of course...”  
“Where's your proof?” He demanded. I hesitated. Proof? Was there a correct answer to this quesiton?  
“Um...”  
“You don't have proof, do you?” He filled in for me. I shook my head. “That's right. Now, do you want proof, proof that you are mine, and always will be?” He asked. I swallowed, feeling like there was a wad of gum blocking up my throat, but I nodded. “And are you willing to accept immense pain to gain it?” He inquired. I was beyond confusion at this point. What could he be talking about? Immense pain? But why? What proof could he give me that would last forever? A tattoo? Did he know how to give tattoos? Regardless of my fears, I had elected to trust him. So I nodded.  
“Feliciano, don't take this lightly. I am being serious. It will hurt enough that you could pass out.” He said sternly. “Don't say yes just because you think I want you to. If you don't want to go through it, say so. I know you want to trust me, and I love you for that, and that's why I am warning you, and giving you a choice. It will hurt, more than anything you've been through tonight, maybe ever. And it will leave a mark on your body that you can never remove. Now, are you sure? Think about it.” He pressed. I did think about it. Worse pain than I had ever felt? I couldn't imagine. Let's see... I had been cut, burned, stabbed, scalded... I mean, it's not like a cook can avoid these things... One time I almost cut a whole finger off while chopping vegetables! (Needless to say, I adopted the method of curling the fingers while cutting after that.) So surely I could handle whatever he had up his sleeve. I nodded again, this time sure of myself.   
“You're sure?” He asked, one more time.  
“Yes.” I replied, quickly, no hesitation. This seemed to satisfy him. He walked away, to the kitchen, returning quickly.   
“Open your mouth.” He commanded. I did as I was told. He slipped a piece of cloth into my mouth, the rough texture pinning it as a dishtowel. It was folded over a few times, so even if I bit down as hard as I could, my teeth wouldn't meet. He tightened the ropes restricting my arms and legs, not leaving any slack, and added another, wrapped around my stomach. He wrapped this one around a few times, pulling it tight as well. After all of this, he came back to my face, and stroked my hair gently.  
“I love you Feliciano.” He whispered, his foot steps going off a little ways. I heard a harsh scraping of metal, and my heart rate picked up. Metal, as far as my night so far had proven, was not fun. Was he planning on cutting something into me? That would be just awful! But I had agreed to this, so I resigned myself. His footsteps drew closer, and I shut my eyes tight, though it was a pointless action, as the blindfold was still in place. I clenched my fists, curled my toes, my body tense with anticipation.   
Before my mind could run wild with guesses of what could be happening, something so intense, so terribly excruciating flared through my body, starting around my stomach and working its way up and down. My teeth tried to gnash together, and I would have broken a few teeth if it weren't for the cloth between them. My body spasmed, a scream forced its way through the dishtowel. I saw stars for a brief moment, felt like I was spinning, and I knew I was about to lose consciousness. I fought the best I could to retain it, and somehow managed to pull back, but maybe that was a bad choice, as the pain was still there. I cried, I sobbed, I choked, all in a few seconds. Whatever he had done, it was rougher, more raw than the electrocution, leaving a resonating sting almost as awful as the initial shock. My body heated up, I felt feverish, sweaty. I recognized it as a burn after a few seconds, and traced the pain to its location, the skin covering my left hip. Why had he burned me? And with what? I heard a loud clank of metal as something rather heavy hit the floor. Then it dawned on me. He had branded me! I forgot that he had a brander from a long time ago!   
He had lived in a rather secluded part of Germany with his father and Brother after his mother died, and they kept quite a few horses. So his father had his own brand, which he eventually passed onto Ludwig. (Gilbert was apparently deemed 'unfit' to inherit most of the assets of the family.) Ludwig always kept it on the mantle, but I never expected to be used again. People freeze-branded their animals nowadays, so iron brands were nearly obsolete.   
After I had calmed down a bit, he began untying me, starting with my feet and working his way up. He was careful not to touch my burned skin. After untying my hands, he took the dishtowel out, and undid the blindfold. Before I could even open my eyes, he kissed me, hard, pulling me into his lap.   
“I love you, Feliciano. I love you. Ich liebe dich so sehr.” He repeated, over and over, kissing me, holding me. I looked down to my hip, and saw the bright red pattern. It stung horribly, but not unbearably. I smiled at him, kissing his jaw.  
“Calm down, I'm alright. I love you!” I cooed quietly. It was sweet how worried he could get, especially considering he was the one who had done it. It was a nice contradiction though, the showering of affection refreshing after the coldness he had displayed most of the night. He gave me a terribly concerned look, as if he didn't believe me. I kissed him again.   
“Now, you've had your fun... Let me cum!” I demanded, pressing my hand into his still clothed but very much aroused manhood. He groaned, holding me a bit tighter. I giggled, pushing him down on his back. “It's my turn, don't you think?” I asked innoncently, pulling his shirt off and undoing the button and zipper of his pants. He let me slide them off, and I looked at him almost hungrily. I made quick work of straddling him, but I moved carefully, making sure I didn't brush the burn against anything. He looked up at me, his lust obvious on his face. I smiled again, lifting up, then lowering a bit, only enough for the head of his arousal to slip in. He moaned, but kept his hips from snapping up.   
I found myself enjoying this power I had over him, something I never expected. I had always be submissive, in every way. But perhaps I could relish in my position, just this once. I glanced around, my eyes quickly finding what they were looking for, luckily within reach. I went down a little more, his moan coming again, his eyes closing in pleasure. I moved quickly, securing the object I had been eying, but keeping that hand to the side so he wouldn't see that I had it. As I had learned, the surprise was half the fun. I was halfway down. (Which is saying something. Ludwig is huge.) He was panting, gazing at me pleadingly. Instead of taking anymore of him, I squeezed, tightening my muscles around him. Just as I expected, he couldn't help himself. He bucked into me roughly, moaning. I was quick with my little planned punishment. The whip I had been holding came down on his chest, not gently, but still somewhat timidly. (I was scared of hitting too hard.) He gasped, his eyes snapping open. I grinned playfully, daring him to say anything against it. But he kept his mouth shut. I squeezed again, watched him writhe. I knew how bad he wanted to thrust, how bad he wanted release. But I had waited this long, he could wait a while. I squeezed again, then dropped my weight till I had taken his entire length, squeezed, moved back up, then down. He tensed, then gave in, giving me three quick thrusts, earning another lash, this time harder. He moaned, grabbing onto my thighs. I repeated my little pattern, this time making it through two reps before he gave in and got another slap with the whip. This just seemed to egg him on, and he kept going. I groaned as the sensation made its way to my prostate. Knowing he had me, he took the whip from my hand and tossed it aside using my thighs as leverage to pull me down into his thrusts. But it wasn't working out very well. He needed to grab my hips, and we both knew it, but he was scared to go anywhere near the brand, let alone touch it directly. Truth be told, I was a bit scared myself. Still, I moved his hands up, let them glide over the marred skin. I cried out as they did, the pain somehow being converted into pleasure by my sex hazed mind. Seeing that I wasn't going to drop dead if he touched it, he gripped my hips, being much gentler on the left side, and resumed his previous actions, bucking into me.   
We set a rhythm, moaning in unison, both of us on the brink. Finally, I could feel my orgasm coming.   
“Ludwig! Please! Ta-Take it off...” I plead, reminding him of the ring still firmly holding my orgasm back. He obliged, undoing something that made a click, which released the hold around both parts. I screamed as he hit my prostate one last time, the combined sensations sending me over, the tensing of my body doing the same for him. I withered onto his chest after my orgasm, panting, finally satisfied, and utterly exhausted. We laid there, in the living room, the only sounds in the entire house being the soft crackle and occasional pop of the fireplace, and our rapidly calming breaths. When we were finally back to a normal breathing pattern, and I was on the verge of falling asleep, Ludiwg sat up, taking me with him. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, my eyelids, my nose, my lips. I smiled, curling into him a bit, then wincing when that stretched the burnt skin.   
“Ah, we should put some neosporin on that.” He said quietly, moving me off of his lap so he could get up. He picked me up and carried me to the bathroom where he sat me on the toilet seat. The creamy white porcelain was ice cold to my bare skin, and I jumped. I giggled when his head snapped my direction, his face concerned.   
“Sorry, the toilet seat is cold!” I assured, and he sighed in relief, opening the mirror to reveal our not-so-secret medicine cabinet. (I mean, that's where everyone's medicine is nowadays! It takes the fun out of having a secret compartment behind the mirror if everyone has one!) He found the tube easily in the well organized cabinet, opening it and squeezing out a generous amount. He then applied it to the area of the burn. I hissed at first, but it quickly became soothing as the air cooled the gel. After deeming the area sufficiently covered, he replaced the tube in the cabinet, washed his hands, and took a large bandaid out of the cabinet, (one of those one's that you never think you'll use because they are so ridiculously huge, yet you can't buy a box without them in it.) opening it and fitting it over the burn. He then picked me back up, switching out the light as we exited. We both looked at the state of the living room, and frowned. There were tortured devices and sex toys everywhere, ropes still loosely wrapped around the coffee table... I looked at Ludwig, hoping he wouldn't make me clean.  
“...It can wait till tomorrow.” He decided, to my surprise. How unlike him to leave a mess! But I wasn't about to argue. I smiled as he took me to the bedroom, laying me on my side of the bed. He turned all the lights out, then got into bed as well. I rolled over, laying my head on his chest, near his collarbone. Lucky for me he slept to my right, so it didn't hurt to lay on my side. We lay in silence for a while, our breathing slowing, synchronizing.   
“I love you, Ludwig.” I said, letting my eyes close, giving in to exhaustion.  
“I love you too, Feliciano.” He replied, kissing the crown of my head. “So much.”  
-.-.-.+.-.-.-  
I woke up the next morning, blinking sleepily. The first thing I noticed was that my hip was aching. The second was that I was in bed alone. That was odd... Ludwig usually woke me up when he woke up, saying I would sleep all day if he didn't. And if he didn't wake me, he would stay in bed till I woke. Perhaps he had to use the bathroom.   
That thought was dismissed as I heard a familiar, nasally voice.  
“Mein Gott West! What the hell did you do to little Feli last night?”  
I couldn't help the little chuckle that came out. I'd bet almost anything that Ludwig was wishing he had cleaned up the night before.

**Author's Note:**

> This. Is. So. NOT. What. I. Am. Used. To. WRITING! XD I just... I don't even know how I feel as I think about the fact that this came out of me. Me! The fluffy SuFin writer! (But I have a rather dark side as well, as my SuFin fans will be finding out SOON(read eventually). Well, this wasn't just a random spur of the moment thing. This was a birthday gift for Sarkastisk.Korp.Klo!   
> HAPPY FUCKING BIRTHDAY BRO! OTANJYOBI OMEDETOU!   
> Ahem, yes, as one of her birthday presents, I promised I would write anything she requested. (With a few limits.) And this was the request. Hope I fulfilled my promise! Hope you are pleased!   
> I say this is a birthday present, but her birthday was on June first... Aheh... Sorry it took so long! But you're totally right! There isn't enough love for GerIta! So I hope I helped add something interesting to the genre! (read I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING)   
> Well... I hope I did torture sex justice (I doubt it) and I hope nobody is too scarred. (I might be.) Sorry for any mistakes... I have no beta... And sorry if characterization is wrong... This is my first time writing for these two... And I have trouble writing from a total idiot's point of view, so I gave Feli some depth. (I think...) I prefer to think he chooses to appear stupid. That's my headcanon, I guess.   
> Anyway, thanks for reading, and I hope you have the time to review! Who knows, someday I might need to write about BDSM again, so any criticism would be helpful. Back to fluffy SuFin for me... 
> 
> If you want to find me elsewhere, here are some helpful links.
> 
> Deviantart: http://ask-nstac.deviantart.com/ (An ask profile, drawn answers)  
> Tumblr: http://www.tumblr.com/blog/ask-kuroriya (An ask profile, written answers)  
> Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Kuroriya 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and feedback is always appreciated! 
> 
> KuroRiya  
> 九六りや


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